


1074

by orangepeachmango



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 70s era with some tech-y stuff, M/M, Roadtrip, bare with me here its 2 am and im on a roadtrip so it came to me, brief mentions of roadhog and junkrat, hanzo is still in yakuza, some kind of weird au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangepeachmango/pseuds/orangepeachmango
Summary: Hanzo gets stranded in the sticks when his car breaks down in North Dakota. A kind-hearted mechanic, Jesse McCree, puts him up for the night and gives in to driving him the rest of the way. Somewhere between the tense bickering and endless plains, they find what they're both looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i dont play overwatch but ive kind of apprehended the characters for my gay purposes. this takes place in some kind of alternate 1970's, where some technology has seen advancements, and others havent. advanced prosthetics and weapons, yes. consumer home computing? not so much. this is really just for fun and i really like mchanzo, and i wanted to write something for them. I don't have an update schedule, just kind of... when i get around to writing the next bit. oh and there will be sexy bits.

Jesse drove his pickup up the winding forest road towards his house, relieved when he finally pulled up the gravel driveway to his house. Shutting his cab door with a loud clang, huffing it up the steps of the cabin-style home, and throwing his keys on the end table. Immediately grabbing a beer can from the fridge and collapsing onto the couch, kicking his boots off and lazily turning the tv on, resting his head on the back of the cushion and taking a deep breath. Long days always made for easy nights. Downing 3/4ths of his beer in one sip, about to take a quick nap before the loud shrill of his phone ringing elicited a groan and forced him to get up. He debated just letting it ring, but he knew if somebody was bothering to call this late, it must’ve been important. Grumbling roughly and picking up the phone, nearly barking into it. 

“Yeah?” 

“McCree, you need to come back to the shop. Some  _ zadrota _ is here making a fuss.”  _ Who else? Aleksandra.  _

“Who? It ain’t Roadie drinkin’ too much, is it? I’m not coming back down for that-” 

“It’s nobody. Just some man. I don’t know him.” She seemed on edge, or at the very least annoyed. He groaned at the knowledge that he would have to come back down the mountain to kick this man by the seat of his pants. 

“What is he holl’rin about?” 

“His car. He insists it’s urgent.” 

“You really can’t get Junker to do it? He lives in town, I don’t.” he bemoaned into the receiver as he put back on his boots. 

“I can’t find him or Roadie anywhere. I’m guessing they went a-wander’in.” She finished the sentence with a weary sigh, how classic of the pair to be on top of you when they’re in your way, and absent when they’re needed. A real  _ rumpleteazer _ and  _ mongojerry _ class act. 

“Yeah. Tell him to hold his horses.” Aleksandra didn’t wait for a goodbye before hanging up. He would have to hurry if it was that bad. 

 

Jesse rolled into town about 30 minutes later, pulling up into the lot of his shop where Zarya was waiting by her cruiser, and the unknown man sitting in the open driver seat of his own car. An impressively luxury vehicle, a Stutz from the look of it. He lumbered over to Zarya and eyed the fellow, who jumped up and then hesitated, giving a wary eye between the two of them. Jesse turned his attention away from him and regarded Zarya. 

“What seems to be the issue, officer?” He liked teasing her with a pull of rank, especially in front of strangers. She either didn’t want to play or was too annoyed to care. 

“Mr. Shimada has an engine failure. He requires your assistance.” He looked over at the now identified Mr. Shimada, extending a broad hand. He noticed a tightening in his jaw as he took it and shook back. He was wearing a tailored suit and while he was smaller than Jesse, it wasn’t by much and he seemed very fit. 

“How’d it come about?” Jesse peered over at the car, slick and black. Not really Jesse’s speed, but it sure was pretty. 

“It’s not my car- it’s on loan to me. I was driving on the freeway and it sort of just… stopped working.” He seemed thoroughly desperate to be on his way. The edges of his words had an accent, and he looked like he wasn’t from here. Japanese? Korean? Jesse didn’t know. Bum-fuck, North Dakota didn’t get many visitors from far off places. Jesse put up his hand to calm him.

“Alright, let’s have a look. Can you pop the hood there?” He moseyed his way over, waiting patiently for the hood to release, propping it open and shoving his hands in, trying to find the issue. 

“Did it make any noises?” Jesse asked, metal arm deep in the engine. Mr. Shimada gave him a dismayed look. 

“I… “ he began, seeming mildly embarrassed. “It made a sort of, you know,  _ ker-chunk  _ sound. And it felt odd when driving.” He glanced away and Jesse couldn’t help but turn up the corners of his mouth. Listening to customers make the various car noises was one of his favorite parts of being a mechanic.

“Oh,  _ ker-chunk _ , huh? Definitely sounds like an engine problem. Can you start it up for me?” Mr. Shimada nodded and got in, attempting to start it but to little avail. Jesse told him to cut it and got to work checking the engine, giving every part easily accessible a once-over. Getting down on the ground to slide under the car. Grumbling and coming back out after a while, sighing wearily. 

“You’ve got a big problem,” He sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news to this flustered looking man. “Something’s wrong with the transmission. And this is a...specialty car. I don’t have the parts for this. It would take me about two weeks to get everything in, another few days of labor..”

Mr. Shimada looked crestfallen, running a hand through his tied-back hair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine. Thank you for giving a look. It there a hotel in this town?” He immediately composed himself, looking very diplomatic. Jesse gave a sideways glance at Zarya, who must’ve not had anything better to do than wait around. He shook his head and glanced back at him.

“No, sir, we ain’t big enough for that. Closest one I know is ‘round an hour away…” Zarya perked up and furrowed her brow, obviously not wanting to have to drive out that far to take this stranger to a hotel. 

“Everyone knows they can stay with McCree if they’re down on their luck here. He’d be happy to take you for the night.” She gave him a very stern warning glare as he almost gaped. Jesse was friendly, and always had a couch for friends, but he wouldn’t consider himself an open door. He liked his privacy. Mr. Shimada glanced up at him, his cheeks a little red. 

“Oh.” Was all he managed, flatly.

Jesse bit his tongue and forced back a spit. He would have to take this sucker home or risk getting chewed out by Zarya and put a mark on his kind name. He sighed and looked over at him. 

“No, it’s no trouble. I have a guest bed.” Well, a murphy bed. But it would have to do. Jesse closed to hood of Mr. Shimada’s car and put away the tools he had gotten out into the back of his truck. Opening the passenger door and gesturing for his new ward to get in. Mr. Shimada sheepishly took his bag from his own car, putting it in the bed of Jesse’s truck, getting in the passenger seat and waiting patiently. Jesse bid Zarya a stern farewell and drove out the lot and back up the mountain. 

“I’m no ritzy establishment, Mr. Shimada, and I wasn’t expecting guests today so you’ll have to excuse my mess.” He grumbled, realizing he would have to hurry inside to pick up the kitchen. Mr. Shimada waved his hand and folded his legs in the seat. 

“That is fine. I know the situation is less than ideal for all parties involved.” He looked out the window at the passing forest. “How far away is it?” He asked absently. Jesse wasn’t sure if he actually cared. 

“Up the mountain a ways. Twenty or thirty minutes.” He looked slightly defeated, like he couldn't believe it was possible that any more wrenches could be thrown into his plan. He stayed quiet for a long while, just watching the trees roll by. 

 

Jesse regarded his face as they walked up to his house, getting his first good look at him without the pretense of work. He had narrow monolidded eyes, and long black hair that was tied back in a ponytail. The wefts of his sideburns were greying, but he didn’t look that old. Only endlessly tired. He also had piercings, it looked like. On the bridge of his nose. Jesse opened the door to his house, letting him in and locking it behind them on instinct. Giving a heavy sigh and showing him the various rooms of the house, standing absently in the living room after the tour and gesturing towards the armoire in the corner. 

“That’s your bed there, are you trying to go to sleep right now…?” He asked, awkwardly putting his hands on his hips, not sure what do with himself. Hanzo shook his head and sighed.

“I’d like a shower, first.” Giving an equally awkward sideways glance at Jesse. He just blushed and retrieved a beer from the fridge, heading into his own bedroom. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

***

Hanzo sighed as Jesse left the living room, reaching up and pulling out his ponytail once he was alone, gathering his bag and trudging to the bathroom, eager to get out of his suit. He ducked in and fumbled with the shower knobs a bit; Jesse was correct, this was no Ritz. He chastised himself silently for being so spoiled. He should be grateful at all that this man was letting him stay in his home; however… Rustic it may be. He quickly pulled off his suit and got in, rubbing hot water into his skin and relishing the good feeling. Being in the car for hours on end was not his idea of fun, especially when they total. When he finished showering, and redressed into a shirt and sweatpants, and exited the bathroom, Jesse had returned to the living room and was pulling out the cabinet bed. He looked like he had been caught doing something bad the way he flustered and blushed when Hanzo returned. He stumbled over his words and Hanzo was amazed that if he was trying to hide his westernly-cowboy accent before, it came full force now. 

“I uh, set the bed up fer ‘ya, I hope that's al’right.” he absently fiddled with his flannel sleeve rolled up to his elbow. Hanzo nodded graciously.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” he said levelly. Jesse chewed on his lip and tilted his chin. 

“That's some fancy ink on your arm there, huh?” and Hanzo glanced to regard his own tattoo. He tugged at his short sleeve sheepishly. 

“Thanks. I think I will get some sleep now, if that's okay.” he didn't mean to sound short, and Jesse looked like a scolded puppy, with his big brown eyes. 

“Sure, sorry to keep you up. I reckon you’re tired.” he stepped into the hall past Hanzo and stopped by the linen closet and yanked out a pillow and blanket, tossing them on the mattress. He tipped his hat and retired to his own room.

***

Jesse was sweating like a sinner in church. He had meant to set the bed up while Hanzo was occupied, and be done with it, but instead he had made a fool of himself and stuck his nose where he didn't belong. He hadn't  _ meant _ to give his guest a look down when he returned, but seeing him outside his tailored suit was a different ballgame. He had figured Hanzo’s hair would be long, as it was in a ponytail, but it was considerably long, to his shoulder blades at least. Jesse righted himself and reminded himself to behave. He went about his bedtime routine, even though it wasn't all that late, but his living room was currently vacated, so an early bedtime seemed in order. He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering about the stranger in the room over. He only knew his last name, Shimada, and he was “renting” an extremely luxurious car for some reason. A blackhawk was nothing to sniff at, and it certainly stuck out in run-down rural North Dakota. He wondered what the big hurry was. He wondered if he should ask Mr. Shimada about it, or just mind his own business. The latter seemed more polite, but he was very intent on the former. He sighed one last time and sat up in bed to remove his metal arm with a  _ chink _ noise, putting it on the nightstand, trying to be quiet. Rubbing the severed arm stub gingerly, getting back down in bed to try and find sleep.

By morning, Jesse wasn’t sure what time he should go out in the living room. He had to go to work, but he didn’t want to disturb his guest. Additionally, he didn’t know what to do with his guest for the rest of the day. He could stay at the house, but that probably wouldn’t appeal to him. He seemed willing to compromise out of necessity, though didn’t seem to enjoy any of it. Eventually, at about 10 to 9, he decided it was time he got up and got ready. He re-attached his arm and headed out, preparing himself to be quiet or to force himself to look away from a sleeping Shimada. Though surprisingly found him sitting on the edge of the bed, already awake and putting a hoodie over his chest. It was a rather odd look on him, when Jesse had only ever seen him in a suit, or form-fitting t-shirt. 

“Oh, you’re up.” Jesse mumbled. Mr. Shimada glanced up at him, nodding briefly. 

“Yeah.” was all he replied. Jesse nodded awkwardly back and lilted to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee on the stove. 

“Can I get you some joe?” he offered, barely glancing back at him. He heard a grunt from the bed.

“Yeah, please.” Jesse nodded and made up their drinks, handing him the mug on his way to the couch. Sitting back and enjoying it, looking over at him. 

“So uh, Mr. Shimada… I really don’t think I can have your car repaired anytime… immediately. It’s also gonna cost.” he said grimly, scratching at his chest. 

“Hanzo.” he replied curtly. Jesse glanced away, scrunching his brow. 

“Pardon?” 

“Hanzo. You can just call me Hanzo.” he replied, taking a low sip of his coffee. Obviously trying very hard to be polite and not let his immediate taste reaction show on his face. Jesse knew not everybody could handle straight black, but he didn’t actually have any milk or sugar to offer, so he didn’t even bother. Hanzo was his name? Hanzo Shimada. 

“I understand about the car. I will contact the owner as soon as I can, and he will pay you for your trouble.” Hanzo explained, experimenting with another sip of coffee before full-on grimacing and putting it on the coffee table instead. 

“I simply can’t wait that long.” he said rather clinically. He always seemed to be prioritizing in his brain, handling every interaction like a diplomatic summit. 

“Oh. Well… where exactly are you trying to get to?” Jesse pressed, scratching his beard absently. Hanzo hesitated, clearly not wanting to share too much information. Jesse wondered what was so top-secret about the situation. 

“Seattle. I need to be there as soon as possible.” He replied flatly. Jesse raised a brow. 

“Seattle? Well… you could take the train..at least to Seattle, then another train..” he suggested, trying to think of any options. 

“I need to be there yesterday.” he mumbled bitterly. Jesse sighed and shrugged half-heartedly. 

“Can you not fly out? There’s an airport in Bismarck.” he glanced at him, regarding his luxury car and appearance scrupulously. 

“I… had a flight in Bismarck, but it got cancelled, so I kept driving.” he replied sullenly.

“I don’t know what else to tell you. You could ask around town if somebody wants to drive you. Roadie and Junker would do it, if you could track them down.” Hanzo looked up at him with a creased brow, confused and frustrated. 

“What does that mean? Who is that? How long would that take?” Jesse just shrugged. 

“Coupl’a local guys. I don’t know. I haven’t the damndest where they are.” He admitted. Hanzo groaned and huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to qualm his anger. He took a moment to compose himself, moving a hand to rub his knee, looking like he was feeling some kind of pain. Jesse felt a little bad, this guy shows up in the middle of the evening, no place to go, and desperate to get to Seattle for whatever reason. He felt for him, and a part of his brain was telling him to fuck-all and roadtrip him there, but that seemed unwise. He didn’t know anything about the guy, even if he was a bit of a looker. Which was hardly relevant, given that there was a high chance this stranger he knew nothing about wasn’t playing on his team. He felt as if he knew him better, he would be more inclined to go out of his way even farther for him. 

“Well, I have work in about a half hour. How about you come down with me, see if you can hitch a ride from someone? Or at least to the airport in Bismarck.” he offered. Hanzo seemed put out by it, but given his limited options, he acquiesced with a short nod. 

“Fine.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the support on the last chapter! i wasn't sure anybody would be into the weird space i put them in. but your comments/kudos/bookmarks keep me writing! drop me one or two of those things if you'd like to see more. love you guys!

Jesse stood up after being elbow deep in the engine of a Chevrolet, groaning and cracking his back. Glancing over at Hanzo, who sat politely on one of the barstools scattered around the shop, sipping at his coffee from the cafe down the road. He had gone ahead on his own while Jesse started on work, and now had little else to do. The rest of the town eyed him with fervor, everyone chattering away about the newest visitor. Everybody wanted to talk to him, when he very obviously wanted to talk to nobody. People approached him in the yard of the shop, asked him questions and interrogated about his stay. He wasn’t rude, which Jesse was grateful for. In fact, he was a perfect gentleman, speaking entirely as if he was trying to please a client. He was stoic, but Jesse could see the soft belly underneath, creeping up the sides of his personality. Despite it all, he seemed jumpy. It wasn’t of fear, simply put he was always ready to brawl. Which Jesse found amusing. He was more than capable of defending himself, the marines made sure of that, but he was honestly more of a lover. This fellow seemed ultimately prepared to fight in almost any given situation, his body posture was tense and sudden noises put him on edge. Jesse idly wondered if he had served. 

 

Jesse huffed and grunted as he bonked his head on the bumper of the car he was repairing, sliding out from under it on the roller rack. Glancing over at Hanzo, who was pacing just outside the garage door. 

“Hey, can you hand me that socket wrench? ½ inch, there.” he gestured to the toolbox just out of his reach, up on the workbench. Hanzo looked over and hesitated before heading over to grab it, handing it to Jesse, still on the floor. 

“Thanks. Mind grabbing me a shop light too? The yellow one, hanging up there?” he pointed to the overhead light above the workbenches. Hanzo flattened his gaze and brought it over, looking displeased about playing fetch. Hanzo took it gratefully and laid back down under the car, getting back to work. 

“You’re pretty good at this, I might just hire you.” he teased. He could nearly hear the eye-rolling coming from above him. 

“I’m currently employed.” he replied curtly. Jesse could hear the creak of the barstool to his left, as Hanzo sat back down. 

“Oh? Doing what?” he asked, hoping conversation would ease their relations. There was no answer for a moment, and he wondered if Hanzo had just up and left. 

“I work for my family.” was all he was willing to share, after a long moment of thought. Jesse thought that seemed incredibly vague. Family work? Was he a caregiver? He really didn’t seem like the type. Some kind of family empire sounded more likely.

“Doing….what?” Jesse repeated. Hanzo shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. 

“Whatever they need me to do.” he said plainly. 

“Like go to Seattle,” he shot back. Hanzo got quiet again, but didn’t bother to answer this time. Jesse bit his lip, worried he’d derailed the entire interaction. He heard receding footsteps and the creak of the barstool a moment or two later. 

 

At around 5, folks had come to pick up cars and Jesse closed up shop. Hanzo had returned well before after his unexpected walk around town, reporting back that nobody had been willing to help him. Jesse shook his head, wiping the grease off his hands with a rag. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Let’s get a drink, see what we can think of.” Jesse offered, trying his best to be amicable. Hanzo looked like he was going to chew him out, but simply shook his head in defeat. 

“Very well. Alcohol sounds nice.” he grumbled, walking away from the garage door. Hanzo picked up quickly and followed suit, guiding him towards the one bar in town, just adjascent to the coffee shop. Nearly everybody worth talking to was already seated and drinking, and Jesse bid his hellos to everyone. The town had a high number of veterans, which was common of most places nowadays. There was only one omnic in the whole town, Bastion, who worked behind the bar. He wasn’t nessecarily outfitted for liquor slinging, but he did fine, and the town had collectively “adopted” him. Hanzo seemed out of place among all the old friends, a stranger in a strange land. Jesse put his hand on Hanzos shoulder and gently pushed him towards an empty place at the bar, after hed finished chatting with the locals. He hadn’t made a move to introduce Hanzo, most people had heard of the commotion by now. Hanzo took his seat and Jesse ordered them whiskeys. 

“My treat, unless you prefer PBR.” Jesse chided. Hanzo shook his head, staring blankly at the bar. 

“I do  _ not _ prefer PBR.” he replied, almost a bit of sting in his voice. Jesse laughed good-naturedly and took his glass from Bastion. Ganymede chirped on his shoulder, tweetering along like usual. Hanzo narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow, trying to make heads or tails of the place. Jesse foudn it charming the way he tried to find the answer in everything, how obviously different the life he lead was from his. Hanzo scruched his nose at a sip of the whiskey, though drinking most of it anyway. 

“Not a whiskey man either?” Jesse teased. 

“This is not very good whiskey.” he replied bitterly. 

“We’re not much for flash here.” Jesse reminded him pointedly. Hanzo just kept shaking his head, glancing away from him. Despite the poor quality of drink, he didn’t turn down another when offered. “You don’t talk much,” Jesse noted after their second round. Hanzo side eyed him, almost a bit of pink showing on his cheeks. 

“Wasted words, wasted breath.” he said curtly. Jesse shrugged and turned to face him, glancing around at the rest of the bar, everybody loudly chattering and drinking. 

“And yet, gather ye rosebuds while ye may.” he said with a smile. Hanzo considered his words, tilting his head in aquiescence, taking the last sip of his glass. 

“What should I be talking about?” he asked, eyeing the rowdy group behind them. Jesse shrugged absently. 

“What do you want to talk about? I suppose I shouldn’t ask about Seattle.” he glanced back at him. Hanzo made brief eye contact, turning his head away. 

“It’s not worth talking about.” he finished. Jesse left it at that, handing their glasses to Bastion for more. 

“Where are you from, then? Not north Dakota.” he snickered. Hanzo shook his head. 

“Tokyo, originally.” he grumbled. Jesse lifted his brow, genuinely interested about the Tokyo situation.

“Really? I’ve spend some time there, Shinjuku, Hanamura, Ginza, Shibuya…” he trailed off when Hanzo gave him an actual interested look. 

“I’m from Hanamura.” he said, a little less flatly than usual. Jesse lit up a little, amazed they had something in common. 

“Oh no shit? I’ve had some great food in Hanamura. Beautiful neighborhood.” He worked to remember things specifically from that part of Tokyo. It had been quite some time since he’d been in that part of the world. It was for war, in truth. But he had liked seeing the many wonders of the east. Hanzo looked at him almost incredulously. 

“What were you doing there…?” he asked, hesitantly taking a third glass of whiskey. 

“Ah… beginnings of the Crisis. Stationed us at factories to prevent workers from making new bots.” he admitted regretfully. Hanzo narrowed his eyes a little and half nodded. 

“Yeah. I remember that.” Jesse glanced away, racking his brain for something to change subjects to. Taking a sip of the third glass. 

“I’d like to go back some time. I really liked my stations in Japan.” He said genuinely. Hanzo looked like he was thinking it over. 

“I haven’t been in a long time. But maybe I will go back someday.” He looked lost in thought, like something very specific was keeping him from visiting. 

“What brought you stateside?” Jesse asked, hoping that wasn’t too big of a question. Hanzo hesitated to answer, as if he was going to hold back, but the drinks seemed to be working on him, at least a little. 

“Work. My family needed me to work here. In DC.” he explained. Jesse considered it, scritching his beard thoughtfully. 

“So you need to get to Seattle for work and family, and you’re stranded in North Dakota.” he echoed, finding that the drinks were working on  _ him _ as well. Hanzo merely nodded and downed his glass bitterly. “Ah hell..” Jesse trailed off, looking at the broad handsome man by his side. He wasn’t genuinely considering driving him half way across the country just for the possibility of rolling in the hay with him, but he was considering it to be a friend. Hay rolling wouldn’t be unwelcome, though. His sloping shoulders and narrow hips.. The way his long hair was pulled back tightly, the surly-ness of his voice. Hanzo looked over at him with a low expression, and it took Jesse a moment to realise he’d just stopped talking to openly give him a once-over. Or a two-three over. 

“You’re staring at me, cowboy.” Hanzo noted aloud. Jesse blushed, his ears bright red.  _ Cowboy? _ Was that Hanzo’s opinion of him? 

“I uh, was just… planning how i’m going makeup for the days i’m gonna take off to drive your sorry ass to Seattle and back.” he countered. Hanzo processed the comment for a hot moment before realising what he’d said. 

“You would.. You really don’t have to do that.” he said firmly. Staring him down, trying to dissuade him. 

“I know. You look like you really need my help.” Jesse teased. Clapping Hanzo on the shoulder, shaking him a little. 

“It’ll be fun. Roadtrip!” he called aloud, much to the enjoyment of the other patrons in the bar, and the chagrin of Hanzo when they all cheered back. 

***

Hanzo stared out the window of the pickup as the ascended the mountain towards Jesse’s cabin home. He was a little worried about Jesse’s health considering their drinks, but he seemed to only have a moderate buzz. He wasn’t driving recklessly. There wasn’t much to see, despite the wooded forest, there were no lights except the high beams, and the dark hid most of everything. Jesse had surreptitiously agreed to drive him out west, despite his adamant insistence that he just drove him back to the airport. He wondered what game Jesse was playing at. What were his motives? Why was he so generous? He refused to believe this country boy was doing it out of the goodness of his heart. Even if he really did seem like a golden-retriever of a man. Fluffy hair, big puppy-dog eyes. Hanzo tore his thoughts away from his cuddly appearance and got out of the truck as they arrived in the gravel driveway. They went up the steps and into the living room, where the murphy bed was still out for him. Jesse threw his coat and keys haphazardly on the shelf, retrieving a cheap beer from the fridge. 

“Let’s leave early tomorrow. It’s a long drive.” he suggested. Hanzo nodded idly, looking at the neatly made bed. 

“You can just drive me to the airport.” he asserted. Jesse chugged nearly the whole can in one sip, huffing and leaning against the kitchen wall. 

“Bismarck is in the opposite direction you want to go. Let me drive you there.” he said, clearly not taking no for an answer. Hanzo sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. They both remained quiet for a while, the only noise being the cacophonous crickets and frogs from just outside. Hanzo side glanced at the man, rough around the edges and with beautiful earthy skin. Long unkempt hair, and the metal prosthetic arm. Hanzo wasn’t usually one to be shallow, and definitely not one to fall so fast, but something about the cowboy was highly attractive. He’d tried his best to push him away, but his perseverance was paying off. Jesse was first to break the silence, finishing his beer and crunching the can in his palm, tossing it in the trash on his way down the hall and past where he was standing. 

“Like I said, early tomorrow.” and with that, he disappeared into his bedroom. Hanzo watched him go, wondering if there was any way he could leave tonight, get out before he actually started to like him more. Sighing and going about getting ready for bed, pulling down his hair and taking everything off. His head midlly ached, and though he didn’t drink an exceptional amount, he hoped he wouldn’t be paying for it in the morning. Crawling into the bed and staring absently at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to find him. 


End file.
